


Precinct

by PyrophobicDragon



Series: Cops and Robbers [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 08:03:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8242219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PyrophobicDragon/pseuds/PyrophobicDragon
Summary: Police AU. Dinner with two detectives.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Quick world/character/relationship building fic.

“Howdy, Shimada. How’re you?”

 

Hanzo blinks at the blurry text on his computer and looks up. McCree stands in front of his desk, chewing one of his ubiquitous cigars--unlit indoors, but still clenched between his teeth. Hanzo leans back in his chair and rubs his eyes. He’s been filing incident reports for twelve hours, and his contacts are starting to dry out. He hopes dearly that McCree’s not here to dump more on his plate. “What is it, McCree.”

 

“We-ell…” McCree drawls, dragging out the word. “I was hoping you and I could grab some dinner together.”

 

Hanzo brushes aside the lock of hair that’s constantly hanging in his eyes. “Do we have another case together?” 

 

McCree sighs heavily. “Unfortunately, partner, I‘m still on that case with Amari Junior, and you’re still stuck with the paperwork.”

 

Hanzo grumbles, “I do not understand why Morrison assigns me, a non-native English speaker, to fill out these papers…which are in English.”

 

Jesse chuckles at that. They both know it’s a moot point--Hanzo is better at English than half of the precinct--but instead of bringing that up, the way Hanzo expects him to, Jesse simply says, “That’s ‘cause you’re the most competent person here.”

 

“Hmph.” Hanzo tries not to preen. It is utterly ridiculous how being praised by McCree makes him feel. “You flatter me.”

 

“Well I better.”

 

Hanzo shakes his head at the pithy reply, then cocks his head at him. “So this dinner is for…”

 

McCree shrugs. “Pleasure rather than business. Just ‘cause we haven’t talked in awhile. ”

 

Hanzo nods. It was true. They used to work together often--from the moment they met, they got along like a house on fire, and two highly competent detectives in one of the best precincts in the state became the crown duo when partnered up. But, slowly but surely, the two of them worked together less and less, and consequently they saw each other less and less as well. Hanzo surpresses another sigh and turns his attention back to the computer. “Dinner at eight. I would like to get through as much of these as possible.”

 

McCree nods. He, and everyone else, know enough about Hanzo’s workaholic tendencies. “But you’re only going to work on them more at home, anyways, so why don’t we make it earlier so you can write these from the comfort of your bed?” He leans against Hanzo’s desk, crossing his arms. “I know you’ve been here since five. Don’t forget that Ana threatened to sleep-dart you and send you home if you stay here more than fifteen hours straight again.”

 

“Four,” Hanzo murmurs, not at all distracted by the way McCree looms over him.

 

“Hm?”

 

“I’ve been here since four. I couldn’t sleep.”

 

McCree frowns. Hanzo can see the concern on his brow, so he quickly says, “Seven.”

 

“Is six pushing it?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Fine.” McCree grins at him and tips his hat. “See you then, partner.”

 

He goes whistling off, and Hanzo cracks his neck and sighs. He ought to work through at least half of the stack left before seven.

 

***

 

By the time seven rolls around, the steady thrum that’s been in his temple since the morning has grown into a full-blown migraine. He tries to keep an indifferent mask on as he shrugs on his coat and shuts down his computer, but the way McCree frowns and says nothing tells him that the other detective can see right through him.

 

McCree drives. Hanzo’s not entirely sure what sort of car it is--he was never too interested in those sort of things--but he’s sure if he asks McCree could wax on for hours about it. As far as he knows, it’s nice, likely expensive, and quiet, which he appreciates above all else right now. He rests his head against the seat and shuts his eyes, trying to will away his headache. 

 

When they roll to a stop, he opens his eyes and immediately cringes. The restaurant’s a nice place, moderately fancy, and he realizes just how much of a mess he feels. His hair is drawn up in a quick ponytail he tied up in a few minutes that morning, his tie is tied improperly, he had to wipe off his eyeliner when frequently rubbing his eyes smudged them, his shoes are scuffed….

 

His train of thought is interrupted by a kiss to his temple. “You look fine, honey. I know you don’t feel it, but to anyone else, you look far more put together than a normal person could ever hope to be.”

 

Hanzo huffs a sigh. McCree knows him far too well. McCree gets out of the driver’s seat and comes around to open the door for him. At his glare, he smiles. “Let me do this, darling. You’ve been working hard all day.”

 

“And you haven’t?” Hanzo counters. He distinctly remembers hearing that McCree and Amari were out all day, trying to track down witnesses for their latest case. He knows from experience just how hard that can be.

 

McCree simply shrugs. “I haven’t been up since four in the morning, sweetheart.” He holds out his hand and Hanzo accepts it, climbing out of the car. As much as he gripes about McCree treating him as something delicate, he can appreciate his gentlemanly behavior. And McCree knows that his grumbling is mostly for show.

 

They hold hands while waiting for their meals. Hanzo runs his thumb over the worn, familiar metal adorning McCree’s ring finger. He wonders when he slipped it on. Perhaps when he was resting in the car? It reminds him to reach for the necklace tucked beneath his shirt and slip on his own ring. 

 

Neither of them wear their rings at work. Relationships between force members was technically discouraged, but the force was more like a family, so their relationship was a bit of an open secret--everyone figured, but no one mentioned it, and both McCree and Hanzo both put at least a cursory effort into pretending they weren’t together.

 

McCree breaks the comfortable silence. “I’ve missed you, darling.”

 

Hanzo inclines his head. “It is a shame that both of us aren’t doing base work, but I understand Chief Morrison’s reluctance to ground two of the force’s best detectives.”

 

McCree nods absently. “Yeah. Wish we could work together again. I wouldn’t even complain if it was desk duty.”

 

Hanzo knows that it was a difficult decision for Morrison to make, breaking up the best duo the force currently has. He also understands Morrison’s logic--as the Chief had put it in a private conversation, “if one of you goes down during a case, the other’s going to snap, probably lay waste to the criminals who hurt the first, and definitely cause a huge headache for me. Both of you are dangerous people, Shimada. ‘Specially when it comes to each other.”

 

Hanzo definitely agrees. If he ever sees McCree get injured, the other party will not be leaving the scene in one piece. But he still is unhappy about the split. He’s being deprived of his beloved.

 

Their food arrives and they eat, idly stealing bites of each other’s food and speaking of whatever comes to mind. They have to let go of each other’s hands, but he can feel Jesse pressing their calves together, the warmth of him seeping through the metal boots he always wears.

 

After dinner, they hold hands as they walk to the car. McCree suggests a movie, to make it into a proper date, but Hanzo shakes his head. The nice dinner was enough. He just wants to go home and to bed.

 

His headache has once again been reduced to a slight throb, so the drive home is more animated, in their terms. McCree sings along to the radio and Hanzo listens to his deep, rumbling voice, watching the streetlights go by outside the window and changing the station at McCree’s request.

 

Hanzo was planning on doing more work at home, but the night was nice and McCree was warm, and he’s always been awful at denying his desire for McCree anyways. So at home, when they get out of the car, Hanzo stands on tip-toe to press a kiss to McCree’s lips. It lasts for a long moment as they press closer together, wrapping their arms around each other. When he finally draws back, they’re both smiling, and McCree presses their foreheads together. 

 

“Would you like to come in for a drink?” Hanzo asks, in a low, intimate murmur.

 

McCree’s smile morphs into something sends shivers down his spine, and his hands are warm on his hips as he dives in for another kiss.

 

They somehow get inside and into bed. By the end of their lovemaking, Hanzo’s too tired to do more than snuggle closer to McCree and fall asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Start of a larger AU that will probably end up with several oneshots and at least one multi-chaptered fic.


End file.
